


Fluctuate

by doobler



Series: Dimensional Hopping [1]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dimension Travel, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prequel, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:43:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: After meddling with the laws of reality, Tony finds himself on a whirlwind tour through alternate realities.Will he ever find a way home?(A prequel to Alternates)





	Fluctuate

Tony knew, deep down in his heart, that this was all a massive mistake with even bigger repercussions. The logical aspect of his brain was screaming out in agony, begging for him to set down his tools and walk away.  
The dreamer inside him was too powerful and he refused to stop.  
" _This seems like a terrible idea, sir,_ " JARVIS droned, a hint of worry leeching through his voice. " _I'd suggest you contact someone to aid in the effort. Perhaps Dr.Richards or even Dr.Banner._ "  
"Nah," Tony replied, dragging his shirt up his frame to latch a grip onto the rim of his Reactor. "Neither of them would know what the fuck to do."  
" _Then perhaps Dr.Strange? If memory serves, he does have ample experience with time travel and alternate realities._ "  
Tony huffed, blowing an errant lock of sweaty fringe from his forehead. He glanced at his monitor. It was only 5:00am. The sorcerer would either be fast asleep or wrapped up in some magical mumbo-jumbo Tony would rather not interrupt. The faintest bloom of warmth crawled across his cheeks. He shook his head at the thought and returned to his soldering iron.  
" _This probably isn't the time to let your affections for the doctor cloud your judgement--_ "  
"JARVIS. Please," Tony held the tool between his teeth, reaching across the desk and fumbling for a far away coil. "Let me work. Progress sometimes calls for... Mistakes."  
" _I'd love to hear you say that when you no longer exist in this dimension._ " JARVIS grumbled but remained quiet.  
It took longer than he wanted but, soon enough, the temporal actuator was ready for a test run. The device was smaller than most of Tony's projects but larger than the Reactor, making it easier to build in terms of construction, but difficult when it came down to the true science of it all. A mixture of notes from multiple sources aided him along, as well as late night trawling through the deepest pits of Wikipedia, but everything came together nicely at the end. Pushing his hair back, Tony stretched, playing a symphony of sickly sounding cracks along his spine.  
"Alright, let's start this bad boy up," He grinned, toggling the device's display. "JARVIS, start a recording, I want--"  
The actuator hummed, high and loud, its many gears already whirring away. Tony went to adjust the settings, confusion etched into the lines on his face, when light and sound warbled out of existence and everything became nothing at all.

The first thing that came back was Tony's hearing. A high pitched tinny whine echoed through his ears, making him cringe. He tried to shake it out, blinking rapidly to clear the bright film of light from his eyes. As his vision recalibrated, he had the sudden sickening realisation that he was no longer in his Malibu workshop.  
The room was dark. It was poorly lit, as well as painted a deep blackish-brown. Fixtures hanging from the walls gave off a weak scarlet glow. Tony sniffled, moving to get up. He was tied down to a wooden chair, bound by ropes of light. He recognized that iconic image, bands of crimson energy that crackled softly. As he finally regained his senses, something entered the room.  
"It's incredibly stupid of you to try and break into my Sanctum," A sinfully low timbre rumbled through the air. "You're lucky I'm feeling gracious today or I would've blown every single atom in your body across the multiverse."  
"I would've loved to see you try." Tony's mouth spoke before his brain.  
The voice chuckled, the sound trickling ice down Tony's spine and making him shudder. The figure came into view, high cheekbones and pale skin illuminated by the sickly lanterns' glow.  
Stephen looked hot but entirely unlike himself. His beautiful blue robes had been swapped out for tightly fitting licorice-colored leather. A sharp-edged jacket cut above his hips, its otherworldly accents draping down long legs and nearly touching two heeled boots. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and Tony swore he saw a flash of blood red within his otherwise stunning emerald irises.  
"I would greet an old friend but," Stephen bent down at the waist, lowering his gaze to come eye-to-eye with Tony. "You aren't from this corner of reality, hm?"  
"No. I'm not," Tony sneered back. The narcissism that came off the sorcerer made him want to gag. It also could've been his rather heavy cologne. "I messed around with shit I shouldn't have and wound up here."  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Stephen crossed his arms behind his back, stepping away to glide around the room. "Such a meddlesome little pup as always. I wonder if you'll ever learn better."  
"Probably not. I'm a stubborn asshole like that."  
Strange hummed, acting aloof as he paced. Tony took note that they were in a library of some sort, one kept clean and tidy yet also dark and brooding. It reminded him of his own Stephen, at least his own reality's Stephen, but tainted. He could only see a book, worn with years of love and tender reading, splashed with a garish streak of crimson paint.  
"Could you shut up that beeping? It's giving me a migraine."  
Tony sat up straight, an icy cold rod of terror rammed down his spinal column.  
The actuator. Where was it?  
Stephen made his way back over, two slim fingers tracing a circle above Tony's chest. A halo of light illuminated what dwelled within. Trapped between the very curtains of the multiverse was the actuator, suspended in the space where the Arc Reactor resided. The two were welded together, tying the strings of time and space between them. Tony wasn't in any sort of pain but a dull sickness seemed to take hold. He could feel the steel and copper seeping into his soul, intermingling with his very essence. Panic settled over his heart, drawing bile up his throat.  
"Fucking shit." He hissed, letting his head tip back.  
"Shame. I'm sure any other me would be eager to help."  
Stephen's smile was empty, his eyes glazed over. He sniffled sharply before pacing back across the floor.  
"Then again," He steepled his fingers. A devilish grin split across his face. "The Tony here has a mighty ransom on his head in certain circles. My hobbies could always use a little extra cash."  
"What the fuck are you?" Tony spat, curling his fingers into the chair's arms. "Some gross bastardization of what Strange should be?"  
Stephen chuckled airly. He regarded Tony like a child would a toad, a perverse sort of interest that could only end in bodily harm.  
"Let's just say when you unlock the door to endless raw power," Strange crossed his arms, tapping his lips with a sneer. "You tend to abandon all morals."  
He lifted one hand and Tony rose, still tied tight to his seat. He writhed, hot burning energy filling his every vein. Burning lava poured into his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He could feel his eyes sizzling, his bones snapping, his organs turning to burnt dust.  
"Master! Master Strange!"  
Stephen stopped, letting Tony drop. He fell to the floor on his side, wheezing as cold air filled his singed lungs. From one of the large oaken doors, Wong poked his head out. He bowed from the waist, palms pressed together in a sign of deep respect. He looked pale and thin.  
"I'm sorry to interrupt but a few representatives from SHIELD are here asking about relics," Wong's voice had a slight tremor to it. "They're talking prices."  
"Ah. Finally," Stephen folded his arms behind his back, throwing open another door with a flick of his hand. "I'll attend to that. Take our... Guest elsewhere so I may speak with him later."  
Once Stephen was gone, the click-clack of his heels fading entirely, Wong gave a quick slicing motion with his hand. All the ties fell limp, letting Tony crawl onto his knees.  
"Christ alive," He hissed, massaging his wrists. "You work for that asshole?"  
"Not willingly," Wong crouched to meet his eyes, his features openly twisted in pain. "He was a good man once. A very good man. But so much raw power with no consequences has corrupted him. The Stephen I cared for is long dead."  
An inhuman scream echoed through the Sanctum. Fear, like a frozen blade, ran itself through Tony's heart.  
"And that's the sound of him finding my little lie."  
Wong braced his hands against Tony's chest, once again drawing out the ghostly image of the actuator. It began to whirr and hum, starting to rip open another door through space-time.  
"I'll help you jump to the next reality," Wong explained. "Find Stephen, whichever one you can, and ask him to fix this--"  
"What about you?" Tony pleaded, cinching his fingers around the sorcerer's wrist. "He'll fucking kill you if he--"  
"I'll be fine," Wong smiled, the warmth reaching his eyes. "He hasn't killed me yet, right?"  
Tony opened his mouth to speak but, once again, a blinding light erased the world around him and there was nothing.

Tony was on a beach.  
It was a nice beach in fact, with silky sand and gently lapping waves. The sky above was breathtaking, streaked with gossamer clouds, a wash of lilac and ultramarine illuminated by a brightly shimmering moon. A slight saltiness with sweeter undertones floated on a lazy breeze. If he weren't aching and afraid, Tony almost felt like he could vacation here.  
Picking himself up, he traced the sea's edge, following the curve of sand and water. In the distance was a structure that caught the moonbeams above. Glass and metal, a building, a facility? It was hard to tell. Tony quickened his pace, the taste of iron sticking to his tongue.  
It didn't take too long before he found himself in the shadow of a rather lovely looking home. It was sleek, modern, and elegant. An almost Stark-like charm seemed to emanate from within. Tony was apprehensive but a strange sense of calm blanketed his shoulders. He lifted his hand to knock, only for the door to fly open.  
"Oh, sweetheart! Finally, you've made it!"  
It was Stephen. He looked the same, though with a few extra lines around his mouth and eyes and a full head of silvery-white hair. He held out his arms and scooped up Tony into a warm embrace, burying his nose into the curve of the inventor's neck. They stayed that way for a long while until Stephen broke away, holding Tony at arm's length. Wetness kissed his bottom lashes. He blinked it away, looping their arms together.  
"I've been dying to show you this place for so long, dear!" Stephen gasped. He clapped twice and the house sparked to life, an array of lights snapping on. "Come in, come in! Let me make us some tea!"  
Tony felt helpless as he was led around the house. It was clean and tidy, almost like a model home, yet a thin layer of dust seemed to cover most of the furniture. The living room and dining room were pristine and also untouched. Stephen guided him into the kitchen, the counters threadbare, save for a lonely tea kettle. He filled it with water and set it onto the awaiting stove top.  
"Isn't it beautiful?" Stephen gushed, clasping his hands over his heart. "I followed your blueprints down to every board and nail! The window in the spare bathroom is a weird choice but I trusted your architectural instinct."  
"That's... Nice," Tony tried to ping-pong his attention between the sorcerer's face and the home around them. "You did a really... Really good job."  
Stephen barely contained a squeal of delight. His hands fluttered and he seemed to hop from foot to foot.  
"It's on the beach too! Just like you always wanted! Oh, darling, I can't wait to take you down to the little cove nearby to have picnics and to swim out to the little island just offshore so we can--"  
"That's all lovely-- where is everyone?"  
Stephen went dead silent. A coldness washed over Tony's body, making him shudder. On the stovetop, the kettle screeched. Stephen scuttled to attend to it, turning off the heat and procuring a single mug, the only mug as far as Tony could see. A tea bag was added, as well as a few spoons of sugar, before the drink exchanged hands. Tony took a tentative sip. There was no actual tea in the bag, making it just a cup of hot sweet water.  
"Do you want to see your lab?" Stephen chirruped. "It's so well organized right now-- oh! Or maybe you're tired from your trip? You can take a nap in our room if you want, I'll just--"  
"Stephen," Tony set down his drink and rested his hands on the sorcerer's shoulders. "What's going on? What is this place?"  
Strange sighed heavily and the coldness returned. Whatever light Tony had brought to his eyes faded out, extinguished. Shrugging off his grip, Stephen led Tony back across the floor to a door tucked away in a corner of the dining room. When it opened, it revealed a stairwell. Tony looked back to Stephen for confirmation then descended.  
The room below was dark and chilly. When the light flickered on, a solitary fluorescent bulb, Tony's heart sank. The walls were covered in drawings, crude scribbles depicting a variety of cataclysmic events. Explosions, black holes, voids in reality, anything and everything imaginable was on display. In the center of it all was a crude and yet impressively accurate caricature of Tony, smiling wide with his squeezed eyes shut.  
"My fault," Stephen's voice was low, scratchy and frail like the last leaves of autumn. "There was... A war. It needed to end. And I was able... I. I broke so many rules, destroyed the very laws of the universe. Saw things I shouldn't have ever seen."  
He ran a hand over one of the hanging drawings, a swirling miasma of darkness with a pinpoint of light at the center.  
"I opened my soul to the universe and it gave me so much power. I ended the fighting. And I..."  
Tears, hot and thick, trickled down the sorcerer's cheeks. Tony wanted to reach out, to hold and comfort him, but it all felt wrong.  
"You-- he-- Tony. I lost him. My fault. All my fault."  
Collapsing into a weathered little leather chair, Stephen buried his face in his trembling hands. His scars were deeper, uglier, harsher.  
"I went insane. Literally. By medical and mystical accounts, I am insane. For my safety-- for the world's safety, SHIELD worked with my fellow sorcerers and made this place. A cornered off section of reality where I can't hurt anyone. My magic is dampened and the door is locked from the outside. A prison for a war hero."  
Tony crossed the floor, gripping Stephen's shoulder with a steady hand. He stroked his arm with a callused thumb, comforting him silently as he sobbed. When the tears finally dried, Stephen looked up at him. Tony noticed his eyes for the first time, his green irises mottled and frayed, swirling like a pool of oil. A kiss of insanity from the depths of the universe, written out as plain as day.  
"I'm sorry." Tony whispered, his voice nearly breaking.  
"It's okay," Stephen beamed, covering his hand with his own. "They couldn't have put me in here without my consent. I chose this path. Only I can take true credit."  
"Mm. That sounds like the Stephen I know." Tony smiled.  
Strange returned the smile, though it slowly faded. His head tilted to one side as he regarded the inventor.  
"Now. I know you aren't my Tony. Who are you really?" He asked.  
"I'm from... My own universe," Tony explained, pursing his lips in annoyance. "Like a fucking idiot, I tried to tamper with space-time and... I've been kinda hopping between realities. The last Strange I ran into wanted to torture me for ransom."  
"Well that sounds awful, I'm sorry," Stephen pouted as well, rising from his seat. "I'll help you get home, or at least out of this bubble to a more sane version of me."  
Tony’s brow furrowed but he followed the older sorcerer anyways, out of the basement, across the house, and down the beach. The sky was awash with warm pink and orange and cream, a fake sun slowly eeking above the horizon. They reached halfway down the beach when they stopped. Upon closer inspection, Tony realized they were inside a dome. The beach didn't stretch on forever, merely stopping at an edge while the sky curved upwards. Stephen tapped on the sloping wall, feeling his way along the edge until he found the seam of a plate. A rap of his knuckles had it easing open, exposing a matrix of buttons and wires inside.

“I can disable the magic dampener for only about fives minutes,” Stephen explained. “As soon as I do, a squad of SHIELD agents are gonna come running down the beach in an attempt to subdue me.”

He reached forward, gripping both of Tony's shoulders, kaleidoscope eyes shining with a fiery intensity.

“No matter what, do not move. Do not try to help me. I'll be fine. You need to stay still so this can work. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Got it.”

Stephen's face softened. He tilted his head forward until their skin nearly touched. A shaky hand rose to stroke down Tony's cheek.

“Can I… It’s just. You look so much like him…”

Tony nodded slowly, eyes going wide as two soft lips molded against his own. Stephen wound an arm around his waist, pulling them closer together. Tony let himself go, his body relaxing, his eyes fluttering shut.

When they broke apart, Stephen sighed, nosing at the soft chestnut hair at Tony's temple.

“Let's get you the hell outta here.” He whispered and finally pulled away.

Reaching into the box of wires, Stephen grabbed a handful and yanked it out, prompting a sharp yelp from Tony. Immediately, blue and green lights began to flash overhead and a slightly muted alarm blared like a forlorn trombone. Stephen ignored it, dragging the toe of his shoe through the sand. He worked quickly, brows drawn in as he concentrated. In no time, he'd carved a rudimentary summoning circle, one Tony vaguely recognized.

“Step in the center and don't move a muscle,” Stephen commanded, crossing his hands in front of his chest. “I'd hate to lose a chunk of you in the ether.”

“Hahhh yeah that's. I'd hate that too.”

With a melancholic smile, Stephen let his eyes flutter shut. The sandy runes began to warble and glow, a pale pink light shimmering from beneath the ground. Footsteps pounded across the sand as SHIELD agents ran for them.

“HEY! STOP THERE, RIGHT NOW!”

Tony tried to focus, tried not to worry, tried not to panic. He watched as Stephen's face went from clenched and strained to absolutely serene. He opened his eyes and beamed.

“So long, Tony Stark.”

Reality blipped out of existence in a flash of bright light. The last thing Tony could catch was a whiff of salt and kaleidoscope eyes.

 

Tony was in a workshop.

He picked his head up from the floor, smacking his lips to work the taste of metal out of his mouth. It looked a bit like his own back in Malibu but the fine details were entirely different. It was cleaner, more organized. There were no little bots moping in the corner, no egomaniacal paintings of Iron Man hung on the walls. The bar was replaced with a tiny kitchenette. Instead of cars, the wall was crowded with an array of medical equipment.

Groaning softly, Tony worked himself up onto his hands and knees. He looked up, eyes wide and slightly crossed as a metal hand pointed itself at his face.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?”

Tony looked higher and a wave of relief washed over him. Stephen. Not his own Stephen, that was for sure. This one didn't wear a massive crimson cloak or that garish gold chain. He was dressed rather casually in a white button up tucked into high-waisted slacks, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. When their eyes met, Stephen jumped a fraction, standing back to give him room.

“Anthony?” He inquired, brows knit in visible confusion. “What the hell are you doing here? You look… Awful, are you alright?”

“You… Would not BELIEVE the day I've had,” Tony griped. He managed to climb up to his feet, leaning heavily against a pristine silver desk. “I'm not uhh your Tony, though, I'm a Tony from an alternate universe.”

“Hm. That explains a lot. You're not all… Wizardly.”

Tony wobbled on his feet, nearly collapsing until two solid hands caught under his arms. Stephen helped him stumble into an armchair, one of two with a high back and soft faded velvet, concern etched into his features.

“Wizardly?!” Tony echoed. “The me here is a wizard?!”

“Uh. Yes? Why wouldn't he be?”

Tony scrubbed at his face with his hands, trying his best not to scream. He needed a vacation. Badly. After a few minutes of deep breathing, he dropped his hands. Stephen had been staring, green-blue eyes wide with wonder. When he was caught, he coughed loudly, readjusting himself to lean away.

“Listen-- I've been hopping between realities all fucking day now,” Tony explained, rubbing at the skin around his Reactor. It ached badly, like an old war wound in bad weather. “I… Tampered with the laws of space-time which put a fucking hunk of metal in my chest and met two other Stranges, both of them insane, one tried to kill me, the other did. Well. He. He killed that me, that universe's me, but he didn't mean to, he was. Uhhh. You know.”

“No, I don't know,” Stephen replied, eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”

“I need-- I need a wizard. I need to get the fuck out of here and back home.”

Strange laughed suddenly, high and manic. He wiped a fake tear from his eye as the chortles gradually slowed. With a reedy sigh, he slumped back into his seat, deflating like a balloon.

“Yeah, that's not gonna happen.”

“What do you mean?!” Tony barked, rising upward.

“Stark and I have a… Complicated relationship--”

“So?! That doesn't make you special, we've got a club, I could make t-shirts; ‘My Relationship With My Co-Worker is Real Fucking Weird and Complicated’ written on the front AND back!”

Stephen huffed through his nose. He pursed his lips before lifting off his chair, striding to his desk. Metallic fingers clacked away against a keyboard before a matrix of holograms appeared in the center of the room. Tony watched, fascinated, as Stephen scribbled in a few notes, dotted some I's and crossed some T's.

“Stark asked me to look into a sort of… Mirror. A window you could open and close at will to show you the planes of reality and how they intersect,” Stephen coughed. A rosy flush crawled up his cheeks. “I reminded him I'm a man of medicine but… I'd do some research for him.”

“That's a whole damn lot of research just for a fellow co-worker.” Tony smirked playfully.

“Yeah well. It's gonna help get you home.”

 

Tony watched as Stephen worked. He was explicitly told not to help, seeing as his tampering could cross the streams of reality and throw off months upon months of careful planning. He had no complaints though, taking a solid hour to nap and helping himself to a few snacks.

“So uh. I don't really know how to ask this nicely but--”

“My hands?” Stephen finished with a smile, wiggling his fingers for emphasis.

They were entirely made of metal, from each fingertip to the bolts of his wrists, red across the back of his hand and the tops of his fingers but blue on the underside. The prosthetics were immaculate, each plate sliding seamlessly across and along its neighboring piece. They moved as smoothly and naturally as any other hands made of skin and bone and muscle.

“Hubris,” Stephen muttered, flexing his digits and clenching his fist. “I… Was an asshole in my youth. Maybe it was karma. Probably it was karma. I was in an accident that robbed me of my hands. After months of agony, I found a… Therapist of sorts. She taught me how to live again, how to be good for society and not myself. I was reborn a new man, a better man. These are my own design, constantly updated and remodelled entirely by myself. They're a reminder…”

Tony felt the muscles clench around his Reactor. He swallowed the lump in his throat, easing it down with a swig of cold coffee. Stephen huffed a laugh, smiling to himself.

“You're a lot like him, the Stark here,” he thought aloud. “Crass. Sarcastic. Impulsive.”

Tony opened his mouth to argue, only to snap it shut.

“So… You must also be brilliant. Selfless. Kind-hearted. Your universe… Is probably very lucky to have you.”

Sniffling loudly, Stephen dropped his tools, letting them clatter loudly on his workbench.

“Alrighty, let's get that hunk of junk the hell outta your chest.”

Tony sat himself down in a chair that eerily resembled a dentist's chair. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, fists clenched against the armrests. Stephen worked away, connecting the last few wires and screwing in a few final bolts. When he was done, he had what looked like a metal ring attached to two articulated armatures. It could move and hold wherever he needed. Honing it to suspend directly above Tony's chest, he inhaled deeply and flipped the switch.

“Oh. Oh wow.” Stephen muttered, eyes wide.

A portrait of light connected within the ring until an interdimensional doorway formed. It was mind boggling, the window working only if you looked directly through it. There, situated in the space where Tony's chest was, laid the actuator, suspended between the planes of reality. Slowly, so slowly, Stephen dipped his hand through the window. His entire arm vanished as soon as it hit the matrix of light. He closed his fist around the actuator, taking his time as he gingerly pulled it out. Finally, finally, he withdrew his hand entirely, the actuator free and fully separated. Tony nearly collapsed, relief threatening to drown him completely.

“Incredible,” Stephen breathed, shutting off the window and turning the actuator over and over in his hands. “Welp. The procedure was a success, you might feel an otherworldly lightness in your chest but besides that, you're all good to go. Avoid dimensional hopping for probably the rest of your life and take it easy.”

Tony snorted, covering his mouth with his hand. Stephen simply beamed, setting down the actuator. His subsequent sigh was heavy, a sort of finality hanging on his breath.

“Now… To get you home.”

 

They took the subway. It seemed this Stephen had an aversion to cars as well. Not that Tony could blame him. He had his own laundry list of things to avoid at all cost, like interdimensional wormholes and giant stuffed bunnies.

Bleeker Street in this reality was shockingly similar to Tony's own, save maybe a few miniscule details. The embossing was gold instead of iron, the roof a deep maroon instead of a soothing verdigris. Tony's heart clenched. He felt so near home and yet so far away.

“We're gonna have to sneak in,” Stephen held a slim metal finger to his lips. “Tony's right hand wizard is probably inside but he's always busy, we might just be in luck.”

“Is it Rhodey? Please tell me it's Rhodey.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes but said nothing, easing the front door open with his palm. They both peered inside, taking in the decor. Where Tony was accustomed to creaky old wooden floorboards, this Sanctum was lined with marble. It felt more modern, with sharper corners and higher ceilings. It felt wrong but not unfamiliar. Stephen led the way, tiptoeing up the stairs, his hand always raised to keep Tony behind him. They traipsed through a variety of hallways, peeking into doors, noses in places they shouldn't be. The longer they stayed, the twitchier Stephen became.

“You alright there, Strange?” Tony spoke up, causing the doctor to nearly yelp.

“Yeah, I just. Don't wanna run into Stark. Well. The other. Stark, not. Not you.”

“Why? Is wizard me a dick or something?”

Stephen gave him a sideways glance, trying to hide his face by sidling up against a wall. He nearly tipped a painting over, scrambling to catch it between metal fingers. Tony went to help him, quickly taking in his downcast gaze and scarlet tipped ears.

“Ohh, I get it,” Tony winked, guiding his hands to ease the frame back into place. “You're avoiding him because you like hi--”

“I can disassemble your spine in my sleep, Stark,” Stephen spat, eyes wide, brows drawn in. “Don't push me--”

“No, honest, I can understand! I feel the same way about my own wizard!”

Stephen inhaled slowly. He visibly reeled himself in. Dragging Tony across the floor, he swept around a final corner. There, against the Sanctum's farthest back wall, was a door. It didn't look special in any kind of way, squarish and squat with a silver handle.

“I've seen Stark use this door to hop between worlds,” Stephen explained, watching warily as Tony investigated it. “Maybe it's what can get you home.”

“Fingers crossed,” Tony laid a hand across the knob, breathing in slowly. He held it for a moment, then exhaled. “I'm really tired, y'know? I'd love to be home where things fucking made sense.”

Both mechanics went silent, still as the dead, when a voice called from the floor below.

“That's him!” Stephen crowded around Tony, gently pushing at his shoulders. “Go, go, before he catches us!”

“Promise me you'll make the first move!” Tony replied, a pinkie extended towards him. “I'll go home, root for you, and I'll do the same but you gotta promise--”

“Yeah, yeah, I will, just leave!”

Their fingers interlocked for a moment and Tony felt a fluttering around the Arc Reactor. He pushed the door inwards and tumbled through.

 

The sky was clear. Birds were singing. Traffic whizzed by. Avengers Tower stood like a massive steel obelisk behind him.

Tony was home.

He pulled out his phone. He'd only been gone for a few hours. There were a couple texts, namely from Peter and Pepper. Tony dismissed the notifications, instead flipping over to his contact list. He hesitated. How long had this crush been festering? Too long. He closed his eyes, remembering the sensation of a metallic finger hooked around his own. A promise.

He dialed Strange's number. It rang three times.

“Hey, doc, I've got a crazy story to tell you. Wanna get some coffee and we'll chat, my treat?”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
